


One Shot & Ficlet Collection

by thats_my_bulma



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alcohol, Cigarettes, F/M, Marijuana in the AU, Sex, Sexual Themes, Smut, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:46:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thats_my_bulma/pseuds/thats_my_bulma
Summary: All of the single chapter prompts I receive will go here from now on :)Stories so far:*8 Vegebul*1Bardine*TBD





	1. Christmas Booze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few long overdue requests that I sqaushed together-from Jlvidro from Tumblr 'I wish we weren’t out in public', and from blacksheep 1105 from tumblr 'Giggling and drunkenly playing with his tail'.  
> The only thing AU about this short is the fact that Geets has his tail :)  
> Also Vegeta is not kind to Yamcha in this- just in case you're not into that sort of thing. (poor Yamcha)
> 
> Amazing art by the wonderful  
> [Greatrageshortlegs!](https://greatrageshortlegs.tumblr.com/)

The room was mostly dark, aside for blinking Christmas lights casting muted color through the white fabric blinds. The sound of holiday jazz as well as a medley of voices were still audible from downstairs, and Bulma hummed along with the old tune. She sat on the end of the Saiyans borrowed bed- Swaying, swaying. _Swaying_. His simian tail was a toy, but she was the drunken monkey.

“Bulma, would you stop that?” Vegeta growled, pushing his face harder into the pillow as she swung the end of his tail to and fro, giggling from his agitation.

As usual, she had downed too much to drink, and she was silly with intoxication. However, he had far exceeded her in alcohol consumption, and the copious amount of Christmas booze had knocked him flat on his ass.

“I don’t want to quit, I want you to wake up and _play_ with me.” She laughed, slurring her speech as she pulled her hand roughly over his tail. His stomach turned at her unkind touch, and his head was spinning, _hell_ , the whole damn world was spinning. He sighed for what felt like minutes.

"Don't _ever_ do that again." He groaned, and she began to titter uncontrollably when he jerked his tail away from her, his teeth bared miserably.

“Go back to your fucking room.”

“ _Not a chance_.”

-

The Brief’s annual Christmas party had been an extravagant, lively occasion- a gathering that Bulma looked forward to every year. Vegeta had refused her invitation several times, but somehow, she had managed to coax him from the shadows and into the disgustingly festive light. He was certain she was some sort of siren, crooning to him in honeyed words and making him lose his mind to her.

In an attempt to tolerate the cacophony of chattering, senseless humans- he drank, and he drank _copiously_. He binged on hard liquor until his face was hot and numb, and at some point, she had ended up on his lap; her ridiculous Santa hat tilted to the side as she hung off his neck.

“I wish we were alone, away from all these people.” She had whispered in his ear, her voice low and coquettish and _needy_. She pulled back from him and licked her wine red lips, and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself from placing his own lips on her perfect mouth,. O _h_ , how he had kissed her deeply, passionately and without restraint. His stoic composure had long been lost to the whiskey.

Half of the occupants in the room stared in shock- her parents, her idiot friends, her ex lover. _Yamcha, oh Yamcha_. Vegeta had wanted that moron to stare. He glanced up from their kiss to relish in the pathetic, desperate look of anguish on her former mate’s face-and it was the icing on the goddamn cake. Asserting his dominance over the fool was a simple pleasure. _He was the alpha here._

The kiss between the most unlikely couple came as a surprise to everyone- Bulma Briefs, the beautiful and insanely rich heiress to Capsule Corporation, and the cantankerous prince of a destroyed world- making out on the loveseat in the darkest corner of the great room. Not one of the onlookers had known about the secret trysts the two indulged in, at least not until now. It had quickly became obvious, however, that Vegeta and Bulma had known one another intimately for some time- especially when the drunken Saiyan had picked the giggling woman up to carry her off, seeking private quarters.

-

Blind drunk. He was _blind fucking drunk_ when he had astonishingly managed to carry her up the stairs, stumbling into his room and tossing her onto his tidy bed before he fell face first into his pillow. Forget the woman, there was no way he could fuck, not like _this_. He was going to have to sleep this mistake off and pay for it bright and early.

He had mostly ignored her pestering, tuned out her giggling and singing for a time- managing to fall into a light doze before she lifted her voice, chanting his name in a singsong chirrup that made him cringe.

“Vegeeeta!” 

He pulled the pillow up over his ears in an attempt to ignore her- he was too damn drunk to fight with her, too damn drunk to do anything at all- until she pulled his tail with as much strength as she could muster. _Damn woman!_ He lifted himself up with a growl, staring at her with a renewed, hateful energy that only a good yank to the simian appendage could provide.

“What the fuck!” He had hissed, trailing off as she stood before him, hands on her hips and wearing only some red lacy thongs, a matching sheer bra and that _stupid_ Christma _s_ hat.

“I thought this would get your attention.” She grinned tipsily, and Vegeta rubbed the bridge of his nose, blinking slowly at her.

“I can’t.” He murmured, dropping himself back onto his pillow in defeat. Despite his drunkenness, he knew his carnal limits, and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself in front of her. 

Bulma looked down at him with her arms crossed, offended by his lack of interest and contemplating on whether she wanted to harass him further, before finally deciding to call it a night. _Damn Saiyan_. She could always take care of herself, anyhow.  

Bulma bent down, grabbing her pants and pulling them up when she heard him grumble unintelligibly, throwing his hand up in an attempt to garner her attention.

"What?"

“Just lay with me, woman.” He mumbled into his pillow in a muffled voice, and she blinked in surprise. It was a rare request- most often they fought, they fucked and then they went their separate ways- but never did he ask her to _lay_ with him. It was a grand invitation, making her forget the fact that she had previously wanted to stumble into her room and dust off the ol' vibrator.

"You owe me in the morning." Bulma sassed, and he grunted wordlessly. She sighed audibly as she bent down to grab her ugly sweater, pulling it over her head before she stumbled onto the duvet and over him, snuggling up tightly to his side. Vegeta had already begun his descent into sleep, but he acknowledged her, feeling a slightly unsettling sense of warm comfort that he was certainly not used to experiencing. His was a dangerous request, to ask her to... _nestle_ with him, but he was too tired to care. The methodical rise and fall of her breathing soon lulled him to sleep.

“Merry Christmas.” Bulma breathed, not expecting a reply from him as she knew he had already fallen asleep. She inhaled the musky scent of his hair and delighted in his warmth, savoring the rarity of the moment, realizing she likely wouldn't get the chance to snuggle with him ever again. She watched the blinking Christmas lights dance off the stark walls in his room until her eyes shut completely, and she finally fell asleep- her arm still wrapped around her drunken alien.

 


	2. Compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long overdue request, Hannabelllector from tumblr sent the prompt “That outfit looks good on you, but you’d also look good without the outfit”  
> I simplified the theme a bit, and took some influence from a stupiddoomdoodle's comic (that I can't find now, booo)- but I hope you enjoy!

Bulma took a long drag off her cigarette, the red cherry glowing brightly in the dark before she exhaled deeply. The smoke drifted upwards into the indigo sky, and she watched as it dissipated into the balmy night air. Her summer gala was into its second hour, and it was _far_ past time for a smoke break.

“That shit is disgusting, woman.” A deep voice growled from the balcony above, and she startled slightly before narrowing her eyes at the shirtless, gym short clad Saiyan leaning over the railing. He of the shadows. _Him._

Vegeta irritated the shit out of her, but she couldn’t help her uncontrollable attraction to the alien which had taken up residence in her home. His body was absolutely _ridiculous_ , and he had an endless stamina that left her reeling after each tryst they secretly shared in one another’s room.

“I didn’t ask you for your opinion.” She retorted, smashing the cigarette out in an old glass ashtray on the patio table.

“ _Tch_.”

“Whatever. I’m going back to the party.” She huffed, flipping her curls with one hand, her heels clicking on the pavement as she brazenly walked away from him. Vegeta glared at her from the darkness of the balcony, watching her curves shift temptingly under the gold satin as she strutted away. It didn’t look like she was wearing any panties. _God. Damn._

He grit his teeth as a sudden, unsettling tinge of jealousy flared up within him like wildfire, and he knew that he had to stop her before she left his sight. The woman’s pathetic former mate was probably attending said party, (he showed up to every goddamn event they hosted at the compound) and Vegeta was not pleased with the thought of them interacting, or god forbid dancing-especially when she was wearing a skintight dress with _no_ fucking panties.

He just _couldn’t_ stand it.

Bulma hadn’t made it ten feet before the Saiyan landed behind her, grabbing her above her elbow and stopping her dead in her tracks. She turned her head around and glared at the Saiyan, her eyes an intense blue fire which made him temporarily forget his train of thought. She was too brilliant, a blue beacon, stripping his jealousy away and turning it into lust.

“What?” She asked irritably, one eyebrow raised at the alien houseguest while he glared at her wordlessly, “Seriously Vegeta, I’ve got to get back to the party.”

 _Damned insolent woman._ He hated the fact that he needed her, required her touch; she was his temporary release. His one true vice.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, pushing himself into her back and nuzzling into her curls, soft as silk and cloyingly floral. She exhaled in surprise as his hardening erection pressed against her ass, and an electric excitement jolted through her body as his lips grazed her ear.

“That dress would look better on my bedroom floor.” He husked, and her eyes widened in surprise. Bulma had rarely heard him speak so bluntly, and she found herself incredibly turned on by his frank dominance.

“Is that so?” She exhaled while he ran his hands down the sleek length of her dress, feeling her delicious curves under the smooth fabric and fighting the desperate urge to rip the damn thing off of her, taking her right then and there under the sultry summer moon.

“Mhmm.” He purred, and she turned around to face him, parting her ruby lips as he pulled her hips towards his. He grabbed her ass tightly, making to kiss her when she put one finger on his lips, stopping him abruptly.

“Sorry Vegeta.” She pouted slightly, and he simply glared at her in astonishment. She was supposed to have melted into him, she was supposed to have reciprocated his advances- _but she didn’t._

“Not now. I’ve got to get back to the gala, I’m the host you know. Why don’t you put on that nice suit I bought you and join me, have a few drinks, loosen up?”

Vegeta stared at her a moment longer, loosening his grip on her ass as his mind raced through his options. He wanted her, and he wanted her _now_ \- but if he ignored her request to go to the party, then he would likely be entertaining himself for the night. He didn’t want to face that outcome, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to the party. _But…_ he could smell the arousal emanating from her like a heady perfume, and he knew he had some leverage on the woman.

“Woman, you _need_ me.” He hissed, and she raised an eyebrow at him. She could clearly see the malevolent glint in his eyes, the look she was beginning to know too well. _He was testing her._

“Do I?” She questioned, pulling back from him with a smirk.

“You do, I can smell it all over you.” He husked, and she gave him an angry look, punching his shoulder uselessly. _Damn his Saiyan senses._

“You know what, maybe your right, but _it_ isn’t happening. Not now anyhow.” She asserted, and he narrowed his eyes dangerously, pulling his hands from her satiny curves like she was wildfire. _What the fuck did that mean?_

 _“_ Go with me.”

“Hell. _No_.”

“If you go out there and have a few drinks, be seen with me- I’ll follow you back to your room. And we’ll do _whatever_ you want, for as long as you want.” She compromised, biting her bottom lip as he crossed his arms, his face set in stone. The woman ran a hard bargain.

“One drink.”

“Two or I’m leaving you with you by your lonesome with one sad, _rough_ hand.” She grinned wickedly, and he clenched his jaw. _This was a nightmare._ The thought of going to that ridiculous party was excruciating, it would probably be worse than any torture he had ever endured… _but_. _She did tell him they could do anything…_

“Goddamn it woman. Okay.” He finally exhaled, and she clapped her hands together, beaming a radiant smile that turned his stomach into knots. _For the love of all the gods…_

“But, you’ve got to …”

“Yes, I know.” She interrupted him, rolling her eyes as he smirked.

“For as long as I want.”

“I got it, I'll wait here. Bring your tie out to me when you’ve changed, because I know you'll screw it up.” She grumbled, and he gave her a nasty look as she shooed him off with her hands. She knew that following him to the dark, cool atmosphere of his room would likely be a mistake. He wasn’t wrong in his assessment of her arousal, and she really needed to get back to the party.

It would likely also be a mistake to bring her awkward, homicidal alien fuck-buddy to the annual Capsule gala; the most negligible shit would set him off, and she was positive he was going to behave like a beast- but Bulma just couldn’t help herself. She really wanted to witness his absurdly ripped body in a suit and black tie, and ultimately, she wanted to show him off. All the men would be resentful of Vegeta, and the ladies would be even more jealous than they already were of the fabulous, awe-inspiring and illustrious Bulma Briefs.

“Hurry up!” She called to him as he sauntered away, and he threw his hand up in flippant acknowledgement. She caught herself staring at the many scars furrowed across his back before he disappeared into the darkness. _His true element._

“You better not be too much of an ass tonight, Vegeta.” She whispered to herself, pulling another cigarette from her bag and lighting it, taking a long drag before she exhaled deeply. After the gala, she and the Saiyan would partake in some mind blowing sex, and then she would be massaging that scarred back for him. It was a task that she despised, kneading into his hard, overly tight muscles (especially for as long as he wanted her to), but she had promised him- and Bulma Briefs never broke her promises.

 


	3. Ephemeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Bardock x Gine (growling/purring) ficlet for Sbubbia on Tumblr :>

A scarlet light bled into the small bedroom, it’s intensity dampened by a thin strip of pale fabric, a pauper’s curtain in a derelict flat. Monsoon rain poured in sheets, hammering against the single window and thrumming outside the walls, creating a droning soundtrack to the Saiyans’ coupling.

Sweat glistened on their bodies as they made love in the low light, tails interlacing around one another’s like breeding snakes, producing a wild, thrilling pleasure between them. Bardock lowered his head to the crook of her neck, and Gine panted beneath him in anticipation.

He held her close, nuzzling into her thick hair, inhaling the cheap perfume and firepit smoke which poorly concealed her own, sublime fragrance. Hers was a soothing scent, as she was the only true comfort he had in his wretched life of servitude to Frieza. She was his respite, his beautiful mate. _Gine._

Bardock was her scarred, yet unbroken warrior; a mate that was away from home for far too long, doing what Saiyans did best; destroying, maiming, _killing_. In his wake he left a crimson flood, but he was not irredeemable. He still remembered how to caress, to embrace and to pleasure when he returned to her; he never forgot how to love. 

The warrior emitted a low growl that trembled against the pale, delicate flesh of his mate’s neck, causing her to grip the sheets with slight, mewling cries. Her heart raced as his velvet tongue lapped at her skin, sweet and salty in the ecstasy of their coupling, and she was consumed with intense fire, an excited burning in her blood, growing higher and higher and threatening to spill over into rapturous bliss.

With fragile skin between his teeth, Bardock nipped her softly, and she whispered kittenish purring in response. It was a sound that he wholly savored, a gentle rumble panted in his ears, a reaction reserved only for him; only when they became one. Gine arched her hips into him when he dragged his rough fingers over her silky arms, and she exhaled when he entwined his executioner’s hands into her own, innocent palms.

They peaked in unison, a rare, shared climax that they came down from together, panting against each other’s necks in heated fulfillment. The mates stared at one another in heavy lidded wonder, their ragged breaths subsiding as the rain outside died to a trickle, pattering gently against the hazy glass.

Gine nuzzled into Bardock, and he sighed as he pressed his lips gently to her forehead. He would be leaving at the dawns light, off on another mission that would likely take months to complete. She soon fell asleep against his chest, and he stared at the ceiling, watching the red light outside of the window turn to blue, washing the room in a pale, cobalt hue. He would remain sleepless, staving off his exhaustion for a few more hours with her, twined together in a silent, ephemeral peace. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was possibly the most difficult 491 words I've ever written-I wanted to challenge myself to make something more poetic, and I hope it worked. (*´◡`)


	4. Just This Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They were building a bond together, one that she had made from his broken wall, the pieces of which he had given her brick by brick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the double post, I wanted to just go ahead and add this prompt to the other instead of making a whole new thread of stories.
> 
> (Only you know who I am)- Prompt for Hannabelllector! Thank you!

Bulma was his tumultuous respite, a spitfire woman of knowledge, and Vegeta was a hotheaded man of chaos.

He was her rival, and then he was her lover.

At first their interactions had been disagreeable, petty snarling over space, over parts, over _time_. He needed _her time_ , because he needed his equipment fixed. Vegeta was never going to surpass Kakarot if he couldn’t train harder than the opposing Saiyan- but he had leverage over the human woman. He used the excuse that he was doing extensive training in the Capsule gravity chamber in order to save the pathetic Earth from destruction. _Easy manipulation_. So, he took _her time_ for himself, whether she liked it or not.

At some point over the months, the two came to a compromise, one in which they shared their time together. Bulma would go to work on his overtaxed gravity room as well as the broken bots, and she only asked him to stay with her and keep her company while she repaired his destruction. At first, Vegeta was reluctant, and the hours had been spent in awkward silence as she made a racket mending his ruin. But in time, their interactions became more personable, then intimate- and soon _her time_ became his guilty pleasure.

It started with her brushing up against Vegeta within the confines of the chamber. A simple, irresistible touch soon became a grasp, which then became a kiss, and a grope... Bulma began stealing into his room within the cloak of night- and against his better judgement, they began to explore one another’s bodies. It wasn’t long before the two became brazen with lust, and they shared the darkness nearly every evening, only parting ways when the red sun crowned over the city.

Vegeta often found himself panting over Bulma’s pale form as she mewled beneath him in the heat of her ecstasy, and sometimes she straddled and rode him until he shuddered under her spread legs- either way, she was his temporary escape from a reality of inadequacy, pain and guilt. She made him feel like a goddamn king, when in actuality he was just the destitute prince of an all but extinct species, unable to even best a third-class warrior.

Later on, Bulma became a comfort that he would seek out, and not just for her body. They still bickered, and still fought- but their relationship had flipped upside down, and it was something frightening and wonderful and _unknown_. They were building a bond together, one that she had made from his broken wall, the pieces of which he had given her brick by brick.

-

The ruddy light of dawn bled through Bulma’s gauzy curtains, and Vegeta opened one eye in response, groaning and covering his face exhaustedly. They had enjoyed a particularly wild night, and had only gotten a few hours of sleep when the light woke them.

“Good morning sunshine.” Bulma yawned, pressing her arms and breasts against Vegeta’s broad, scarred back as he growled an illegible tangle of words in the Saiyan tongue.

“What was _that_?” She asked cautiously, and he gave a dry laugh.

“Shut the fuck up.” He mumbled, sighing deeply into the pillow, and Bulma punched him in the arm so hard that he could _almost_ feel it. He grinned to himself, enjoying her brash flare of anger; the temper that he found just as attractive as her stunning physical appearance.

“I don’t have anything to do this morning, want to sleep in?” She finally asked him, pressing her lips to his neck as he emitted a low rumble of annoyance. _Why the hell would she think that_ he _had time to sleep in?_

“Is that a yes?” She smiled, and he could feel the corners of her mouth rise on his skin.

“No.” He retorted, yet he couldn’t bring himself to move as the woman snuggled against his back. He wasn’t sure that he enjoyed the nuzzling, but he was too tired to fight it. _And besides, it would be good to get a few more hours of sleep…_

Bulma stayed silent, breathing onto his skin as he stared at the darkness of his arm shielding his face. He knew that he couldn’t sleep in, he had to get up, had to train, no other option-

“I’ve got to train.” Vegeta announced, and Bulma grabbed him tightly, wrapping one arm around his waist. He made a face in secret as she spoke behind him.

“I don’t want you to go, not today. Stay with me?”

“I can’t.” He growled low, irritated and yet somehow pleasantly surprised. She had never been so persistent in keeping him in her bed…

“You certainly can stay!” She retorted, and he turned over to her, his dark eyes boring into the angry, blue abyss of her own. _She was so damn beautiful..._

 _You can.”_ She reiterated with knitted eyebrows, putting her index finger on his nose before he slapped it away. Vegeta’s mind raced, and he weighed his options carefully. He could get up, leave, not have to endure this shit- or he could stay, sleep, and be close to her.

Bulma stuck her lip out dramatically and ran a hand up his arm to his jaw, and he closed his eyes as she held his face. _Fuck_. His many years of intense training and  the resulting resolve were no match for her unnerving charm.

“Fine. Just this once.” He hissed, and she beamed, kissing him on the forehead as he huffed and turned once again to his other side. Bulma commenced her snuggling, and he tolerated it, almost liked it _until…_

“You know Vegeta, I don’t know much about you.” She whispered, and his body immediately tensed, eyes wide in surprise. _What the fuck was this about? Wasn’t it time to sleep…_

“You know enough.” He growled in response, feeling like jerking away from her arms right then and there. Escaping into the dewy, silent dawn and holing up in a godforsaken cave halfway across the world sounded better than answering unwanted questions about his life. He knew it was bound to happen, _but..._

“I barely know anything about your past…”

“Woman…” He started, feeling his stomach knot up at the mention of his past. It was a dark thing, a cruel history with enough blood to fill an ocean, and she knew that much... but the bitter decades of rage and hate and hopelessness in the clutches of his tyrant abductor was a nightmare that he had tried for too long to purge from his memories. His past was his burden, and only his to bear.

“My past is unspeakable. It’s gone, its buried and dead.” He snapped, rolling his arm back over his eyes as she sighed dramatically.

“I just feel like I don’t know you, not really.” She breathed, and Vegeta secretly rolled his eyes, knowing that the woman wouldn’t stop until he gave her some sort of answer or got up and left. While leaving sounded like an attractive option, he felt that she at least deserved something from him. Some stupid words to appease her until he was ready-and only _if_ he would ever be ready to tell her more.

“Bulma, only you know who I am. No one else…no one else in this whole fucking universe knows me like you do now. Leave it at that.” He managed, toying with the thought of blasting a hole right through the window to escape the embarrassing situation he had somehow found himself in. He knew that if she asked him one more question, it was really going to happen...he was going to split.

“I’ll take that.” Bulma smiled into his shoulder, and Vegeta exhaled in weary relief, his heart still thumping far too hard for his liking. He wanted more than anything to escape her arms, her warmth and her scent, and the turquoise tangle of her hair- but he couldn’t leave now. He _had_ told her that he would stay ‘just this once’. _Just this once and never again._

Little did he know, that he would be saying those words over and over, and over again.


	5. Smutfest: Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta x Bulma ,Woodstock AU, non literal interpretation of Butterfly for the first day of Spring 2018 Vegebul Smutfest :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut and Marijuana use.

She danced in the breaking sunlight, banging a tambourine on her hip with the other women as they all sang some damn hippie anthem, skipping across the oversaturated grass and turning it to mud under their bare feet. They were all high, all enjoying life to the fullest, all young and free and beautiful- but _she_ \- _she_ was the most gorgeous out of all of them, by far. His lifelong friend, Bulma was dressed in a long yellow dress with wide flowing sleeves, her turquoise hair cascaded down to her waist and a crown of daisies had been laced around her forehead like a halo, and Vegeta couldn’t help but think she looked like a **butterfly** dancing in the wind.

Vegeta took a drag off his mostly spent cigarette, wondering when he had gotten so damn poetic, but especially pondering on how he had gotten dragged into this psychedelic music festival in the first place. He was a straight-laced man, nineteen with a steady, good paying job in the steel mill, the only one out of all these hippies wearing a fitted pair of jeans and plain white tee shirt. And shoes, have mercy, it seemed like none of these freeloading hippies owned a decent pair of shoes.

Their song had finally finished, the circle of women was replaced by others, and Bulma came running up to her brown, beat up cargo van with a smile and a loss of breath. Vegeta flicked the butt of his cigarette to the mud and looked up at her as she threw her tambourine in the back of the van. She had begun to sweat, the thin sheen of it sparkling on her face as she panted, leaning on the side of the open cargo door where Vegeta sat, dangling his legs over the bumper.

“Isn’t this festival great?” She managed before collapsing beside of her friend, and he was shocked as she laid her head down in his lap. She acted as if it were nothing as she chattered on about the bands that would be playing that afternoon, and his heart began to race as she named her favorite acts. He swallowed hard, wondering what in the hell she was thinking being so intimate with him, as she had _never_ before shown any romantic interest to him in the past.

They had been friends since they were kids, next door neighbors that had played together, went to school together, fought with and confided in one another… but never _this_. He had been infatuated with her for as long as he could remember, but he had never shown it to her. He had never wanted to screw up their friendship like that…

“Bulma,….you have your head, on my…” He trailed, blushing and motioning awkwardly to the woman and his crotch as she turned her head up to look at him.

“Oh Geets.” She laughed, calling him by the nickname that he hated so much. He made a face at her as she watched him closely, and she reached up to touch his clean-shaven jaw gently, _lovingly_.

“Do you not like it, I can…”

“No! No, I like…it.” He swallowed embarrassedly, glancing down at her concerned visage with a face as red as a tomato, and she smiled once again, digging around in the wide pocket at her hip and pulling out a half smoked blunt.

“You should smoke some of this with me, relax. Have a good time.”

“I don’t know about all of that.” He responded as she held the flame of her zippo at the end of the blunt, puffing until it sparked to life. He raised an eyebrow as she inhaled, finally blowing out a stream of skunky smoke outside the cargo door.

“Damn,” She murmured with a sigh, handing the joint up to Vegeta as he curled his lip,  “hey now, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want.”  

He stared at the pot for what felt like ages, and he finally grinned down at her. He had always wanted to try it, even though his father had told him it would make him addicted, melt his brain and screw up any chance for a normal future. It had begun to sprinkle, light patters of rain falling on his skin, and Vegeta shook his head.

“Fuck it.” He said, grabbing the blunt and taking a long draw before coughing uncontrollably.

-

She was right, the foul-smelling shit was relaxing, so much so that he soon found himself loopy and shirtless, his jeans unbuttoned and his cock out as Bulma straddled him, getting muddy footprints all over the carpet as they made out in the back of her van. Her lips were impossibly soft, her breath sweet and her kisses electric, sending a jolt of excitement that ran to his core as they rolled their tongues together in the privacy of the curtained vehicle.

Lighting struck outside, and the rain picked up as Bulma traced her hand up his chiseled chest, pressing herself down onto his erection, and he inhaled when he felt her warm, wet sex rubbing against the head of his cock. She wasn’t wearing a damn thing under that yellow dress… _holy shit._

“You know, I never thought this would happen.” She whispered in his ear, making his skin tingle from her hot breath as he sucked and nipped at her neck, tasting her sweet, salty skin beneath his lips as she teased him, making him desperate for her. She gyrated herself just over his cock, letting him feel her slick folds running up and down against the entirety of his length as he ran his hands up the soft skin of her legs, squeezing her hips as her teasing folds sent his mind into a yearning, wild ecstasy.    

He couldn’t wrap his head around an answer as he panted excitedly into her neck, running his fingers through the wild cascade of her hair, desperate to be inside her as she teased him. He sure as shit had never thought this would happen either, and he still wasn’t convinced it wasn’t some sort of perfect wet dream as he involuntarily bucked into her, making her giggle as she grabbed his throbbing cock, guiding the head through her willing borderline without warning.

 “Oh god _damn_.” Vegeta moaned, it was pure pleasure, tight, wet ecstasy as Bulma slowly, excruciatingly lowered herself to the hilt, whimpering as she filled herself with his cock. She leaned back as she rode him, panting as he did, smiling at him as he pulled her dress from her shoulder, hungrily exposing her breasts and pert, pink nipples. _He had wanted this for so many years, and somehow, it was happening. It was happening so fast._

Vegeta stared in awe at her perfect tits as she continued to bounce on top of him, and he didn’t protest when she commanded him, _begged_ him to suck on her nipple. He grabbed one breast with his left hand and lifted her right one to his mouth, sucking and nipping greedily as she moaned loudly, and the van began to shake from her rapid pace.

Bulma dug her fingers into Vegeta’s dark hair, pulling as she mewled in her pleasure, spurring Vegeta on to meet her with his own thrusts, syncing up with her so they moaned and thrusted together. They grabbed wildly at one another in the heat of ecstasy, sweat pouring off their bodies as they lost themselves in one another.  

She finally cried out his name, his true name, as daisies fell from her hair, settling all around them as she climaxed on top of him, her walls shivering around his cock and sending him over the edge himself. He moaned as the world went hazy, and rapture filled him before spilling out and deep into her as he grabbed her tightly, finishing with his face in her neck and her name whispered on his lips.

They stayed that way for some time, panting onto one another and cooling down from their passion, until he fell back, and she on top of him. They laid together in bliss, surrounded by daisies and hearing only the sheets of rain falling on the van and the faint, distant sound of the Grateful Dead playing on the main stage. It may have been their first time, but wouldn’t be the last in that wet, sultry summer of 1969.

 

 

 

 


	6. 3 Little Ficlets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All involving Vegebul <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First ficlet requested by Nekosveggies second requested by Lavampiremerveilleuse and the third requested by Iamnotatruefan- all from tumblr. Thanks you all!

**You heard me, take it off.**

 “You heard me, take it off.” Vegeta coaxed, shirtless and leaning back in his beach chair with a pair of dark sunglasses on. Bulma gave him a nasty curled lip and a side eye, although she knew she would probably oblige him anyhow.

“No.”

“Do it, woman. You look fine.”

“Whatever, you win.” She hissed, pulling off her oversized T shirt and tossing it in her beach bag. This was the first time she had been to the beach since having Bra, and she had stupidly thought that she would look as good as ever in a bikini. How could she? Despite the cocoa butter and expensive lotions, she had gotten stretch marks, and regardless of her regular workouts, she still had a baby belly. She was getting older, and it wasn’t so easy to stay hot anymore, damn it.

“Perfect.” Vegeta remarked, stretching his arms above his head leisurely. It was so rare to see him so relaxed...

“You’re full of shit.” She responded, pulling out a bottle of sunscreen, squirting out a dollop and applying it to her face while he shook his head lazily.

“You are, and you know it.”

Bulma smiled to herself as she knew her husband was being totally honest. Even though she bitched about her ‘ _old ass body_ ’ on the regular, he still found her simply amazing. She was still the woman he had met so many years before, the one that had taught him to love, taught him to chill the fuck out and helped him become not just a father, but finally- a good one. She meant all the worlds to him, and no matter what, Bulma Briefs would always, _always_ be beautiful in his eyes.

-

**Well, this is awkward**

“Well, this is awkward!” Panchi tittered, closing the door on her daughter and her new alien lover (both nearly undressed), but not before she was yelled at thoroughly.

“LEARN TO KNOCK, MOM! DAMN!” Bulma yelled, still straddling the alien man on his bed, her face as red as Vegeta’s for once- but her ruddy complexion was mostly out of anger. Her mother seemed to make it a point to walk in on her and Vegeta in the most compromising situations, and it pissed her off to no end.

Not to mention her intrusions made Vegeta clam up and lose his enthusiasm for ‘ _deep Bulma exploration_ ’. Despite his cantankerous nature, he was a shy man when it came to matters of the carnal variety- and Bulma would always take what she could get from him.

“I’m sorry, my mom is…” Bulma trailed, pointing her finger and making a spinning motion by her temple. Vegeta raised an eyebrow, confused, but not asking any questions. He was too ashamed to do much more than blush in the moment, and so Bulma unsnapped her bra, letting her tits bounce out to the man’s obvious delight.

Despite his bizarre nature and alien ways, he was still a hot-blooded man. He just couldn’t resist her perfect knockers.

“Maybe next time you can lock the damn door when you visit.” Vegeta growled halfheartedly, cupping the woman’s breast and pinching her nipple before he looked up at her, meeting her impossibly blue eyes with his onyx gaze.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Bulma laughed, planting her lips on his, and vowing to never leave the door unlocked ever again.

-

**Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?**

“Is there a reason that you’re naked in my bed?” Vegeta grumbled, walking through the door to the balcony and finding the damn woman in his bed, covered by the sheets to her waist with her tits on display for the whole damn world to see. It was too late, and he had trained too damn long to have to deal with her drunken ass again- but to his surprise she answered without a slur.

“I was waiting on you, and I’m not naked, silly. I’ve got panties on.” She yawned, sitting up and revealing that she did, in fact, have lacy little panties on. He felt his groin stir to life, and he curled his lip angrily.

“That doesn’t matter, woman! What do you want now?”

“I’m lonely.” She smiled sleepily, a stray curl falling in her face before she pushed it back to no avail. _Ah, She was fucking beautiful…_

“I don’t care.” Vegeta answered, wanting the distraction of a woman to leave him alone- but he was secretly glad she kept coming around. He couldn’t train to his full potential if all he could think of was how damn good she felt, though, and how her scent drove him mad- and _ahh_. He could never get the picture out of his head of her big blue eyes gazing up at him, half lidded in ecstasy as he spoke to her in his native language while fucking her brains out. That was not something one could easily stop thinking about.

“C’mon. You do, I know you want me right now.” She whispered, pointing to his rogue groin while biting her lower lip coquettishly. _Damn her_. Vegeta turned away from the woman, knowing that one last time wouldn’t hurt anything. But that was it- the last time and never again. _Never…ever…_

 

 


	7. Just a Phase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta has made plenty of mistakes by drinking with her and letting her in- until the mistakes stopped.
> 
> But now that he'd become a forgotten phase, he can finally concentrate on the task at hand... right?
> 
> (NSFW chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GreatRageShortLegs made an open Vegebul prompt request that sounded so fun I couldn't resist!
> 
> The prompt is (loosely) based off of lyrics from the song "Phases" by Alma & French Montana.
> 
> Hope you like it!

She was drunk, but so was I.

_Strike one._

I let her in.

_Strike two._

She sat on the end of my bed, handing me her bottle so that she could take off her shirt.

_Strike three._

And I was too goddamn drunk to really care that a dire mistake was being made, though- too enthralled with what lay underneath, like I hadn’t seen a pair of tits in my whole life… but in my defense, I _hadn’t_ ever seen hers. And it had been so long…so, _so_ long since I had been with a woman.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she slurred with a giggle as she threw her shirt behind her back with abandon, and how I stared. Stared at _them_ , two perfect orbs jiggling within a lacy black bra… and I too wondered why the fuck she was doing this.

I was a destroyer.

I had threatened to kill her, her friends and family, her planet- everything she had ever known or cared about could have easily been taken away by my hands. And yet, here she was, drunk as fuck with me in the room she had let me live in as I trained on her shitty Earth.

“I mean, you’re such an asshole, but let’s be honest- you’re just too hot,” Bulma shrugged, watching without complaint as I ignored her embarrassing compliment and downed her bourbon and ginger ale in one go. I made a face at the sweetness that soiled the earthy whiskey taste previously on my tongue, and I took a deep breath… was I even sure that was her drink? I _was_ holding it…

“Woman, you have no idea. No idea,” I managed, realizing the mixed concoction that I swallowed was stronger than I had given it credit for and I threw the empty bottle to the carpet below. _God. Damn._

“No idea of what?”

“No idea the things that I could do…” I stammered again, trailing off and blushing slightly as she grinned. I hadn’t meant it like that…

“Show me then, Vegeta. Show the things you can do!”

 _Damn her_. Really, I had done it to myself, speaking in such a way. So, I guess I had to show her then. I had been around the galaxy, I knew enough…

I sat up on my knees, sighing deeply as I motioned her to me, knowing I would likely knock her off the fucking bed if I attempted to close in on her so close to the edge. She sidled up to me on her own knees and clasped her hands, pressing her red lips together with a coy little grin as I narrowed my eyes at her.

Her hair was curled, laying over her shoulders in a blue tumble, and her face was quite easy on the eyes- her body just _divine_ …and she was offering herself to my tainted grasp. Ah woman… blue haired woman. She was a truly lovely creature, the sort of woman worthy of a Prince indeed.

I nearly hesitated before I ran my bare hands over the silk of her skin, marveling at her delicacy- and I fumbled with the clasps of her bra only a moment before I decided to just rip the fucking thing apart. She giggled as I threw it to join her shirt, and I stared at her pert pink nipples in the low light just a moment before closing in, rolling one nub between my finger and thumb as I sucked on the other, nipping her flesh gently as she let out little kittenish sounds that drove me wild.

And I could smell her arousal, gods be good…

It was a dizzy thing, but one touch quickly led to another, and soon my shirt was gone, as were her jeans and panties. We kissed and grabbed at one another, desperately fumbling to discover more of each other’s bodies, to selfishly receive pleasure while inadvertently giving it to the other as well.

And I showed her what I could do.

Bulma laid back for me and I mounted her, nearly gasping as I plunged into her wet slit, filling her up as she moaned and clawed at my flesh, spurring me on to fuck her harder as she called out my name.

_My name._

Had anyone ever called out my wretched name in ecstasy before? I was too drunk to remember, but I seriously doubted it, and I found the reality of it quite a turn-on.

I hadn’t had a woman in years, so my climax consumed me quickly, my mind going dark as I gave into the rapture and spilled my seed into her. As quickly as the rush of pleasure came though, it receded, and I rolled off from her as my head spun disconcertingly.

I wasn’t sure that she had gotten hers, but she didn’t complain, so it must have been good enough. Good. Good enough. I was too lightheaded…too damn drunk.

The last thing I remember in my swirling reality was her crawling up beside of me, nuzzling her head against my chest as I escaped the unsettling drunkeness and faded into sleep.

-

_Oh gods._

_What had I done?_

I woke up with a pounding headache and the nude woman smashing her face into my chest unprettily. I found my arm resting on her side, and she stirred when I lifted it from her flesh like she was a poison thing. She turned her face to reveal red pressure spots, dark makeup rings around her eyes as well as fuzzy limp ghosts of curls flattened against one side of her head. And was she _drooling_? Gods… an alien peasant woman drooling on the Prince of all Saiyans after a night of drunken fucking. Wouldn’t father be _so_ proud to see that?

So, I reflected on the night and how I had ended up in this awkward situation. Bulma had insisted that I join her for dinner, which was nothing new- but she told me that her afterwards her father would crack open the good whiskey and bourbon and that I could join them. She knew I loved the whiskey, but why, exactly, had I joined them? What had gotten into me, that I thought it was a good idea to fucking drink around the humans instead of holing up in my sanctuary or stealing away to some remote location, far from what the humans pathetic excuse for civilization?

I wasn’t sure.

It was surely a lapse in sanity- and one thing had of course led to another with the temptress. I had let her into my room like a horny, undisciplined fool- which was a problem because my idiot ass lived in the woman’s home; I would have to see her every goddamn day. How awkward was it going to be? Would I have to fight her off with a stick?

I had to make sure that _that_ wouldn’t happen- she was a distraction, nothing more.

I made a face as I pushed her off from me gracelessly, nearly gagging at the thick trail of spit she left on my bare chest before she woke up, bleary eyed and quite unlovely.

“Get up,” I grumbled as I sat up stiffly, glad to see that I had at least pulled up my pants after our ill-fated tryst the night before. It wouldn’t do to be lying around with my dick hanging out and a blue haired whore sprawled out over top of me, drooling like a slob.

“Get out of my room,” I grumbled, watching as she narrowed her smoky eyes, rubbing one of them slightly and smearing the mess even further.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

She glared at me unbelievingly at first, like I was making a crass joke before she realized I wasn’t fucking around with her. Bulma curled her lip up in disgust as she slid off my bed, her body still quite attractive despite the morning-after ruin of her face. I felt wretched for even toying with the thought of having another go…

“You are _such_ an asshole, I can’t believe I slept with you. Ugh!” Bulma growled, and despite myself I watched as she snatched up her pants and panties first, pulling them up over her legs and causing her tits to jiggle delightfully all the while. That was a visual I didn’t need, too tempting. _I didn’t need her._

“Well, I can’t believe I let you into my room,” I growled, standing and walking to my bathroom to wash her away from my body when she threw her broken bra at me, her face contorted in pure rage as she pulled her T shirt on over her shapely form.

“And you broke my bra, I paid a hundred bucks for this bra you dick!”

“Not my problem,” I retorted before closing the door in her petulant face, noticing just before I shut it that the dark makeup around her eyes had begun to run down her face in rivulets.

She had been crying.

_Not my problem._

-

For reasons beyond my comprehension we got drunk four more times by the end of the year, and each time ended up with the woman in my bed…and once I even found myself in hers. A few times that we coupled up we were actually stone-cold sober…

The last time I had been with her though, had been on the human holiday she called Christmas. It went as it always had; we got trashed, we got horny and we gave in to one another. The next morning, I kicked her out of my room as always.

It’d been months since then, though, and despite seeing her regularly, we never spoke of it- or really spoke at all beyond a nod. 

She had gone out with her stupid female friends several times since then, had drank with her parents after dinner- but she never bothered to invite me anymore, and so I concluded that she found me to be a phase, washed out and over with.

Which was absolutely fine by me.

I trained daily, my regimen growing more and more strenuous, and I surely didn’t have time to fuck around with Bulma, or any woman at that.

Women were nothing but distractions, nothing but bitching and moaning and… _trouble_. I didn’t want her at all, wasn’t jealous when she came home smelling like another man. I never had the urge to kill a fool for fucking with her… of course not, why would I? It was best just to let her drool on some lowly piece of shit.

Didn’t matter to me.

“Of course it doesn’t matter,” I said out loud to myself, my voice and body straining, sweat pouring off of my skin while I did one fingered pushups in the crushing red glow of the gravity chamber.

“I don’t need anyone. Never needed anyone.”

That wasn’t a lie, I had always only had myself to depend on… never had anyone else. Never had friends, never had lovers. Never truly had Bulma, other than a few nights.

Didn’t need her.

I continued, fighting the agony in my muscles, pushing through the pain, washing all of my thoughts away before the gravity dropped suddenly, causing me to nearly hit my face on the floor as the overwhelming force ceased and the fluorescent lights flickered on.

Who in the fuck would dare disturb me?

“Vegeta?” Bulma called out as she strutted in, stunning as ever with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and her shirt wet with a spatter of rain drops. Why did I find her so attractive? So… _tempting_.

“What the fuck do you want?” I growled, pissed…beyond pissed! How dare she interrupt my training? The very woman who hadn’t spoke to me in months!

“Well, nice to see you too,” Bulma grumbled, watching me carefully before she leaned against the edge of the instrument panel. I sat up with my elbows on my knees, panting and motioning impatiently for her to speak when she rolled her eyes.

“You are the absolute worst.”

“Spit it out!”

“I got you the whiskey that you like,” Bulma blurted, the faintest little grin flashing across her pink lips as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, “Wanna’ drink with me later?”

_Oh._

I wanted to tell her to fuck off, that I was too busy to play with her. I wanted to tell her to drink it with her other men- but I didn’t. _I couldn’t_. I was actually quite pleased she had propositioned me for another drunken tryst. If I was being honest with myself, I was fucking elated.

 “Is it… is it the kind with the old man on the front of the bottle?” I asked gingerly, hoping that she _had_ actually gotten the liquor I liked best. The hundred-dollar bottles that her father knocked back on the regular.

“Of course, that nasty ass Old Grampy 28 Special!,” she grinned, causing me to look away from her to keep from blushing. _That was the one_. I was more than pleased with the fact that she remembered, but the gods only knew I couldn’t let her know that.

“Hmm.”

“Meet me in my room at nine?”

I looked up at her, locking eyes with her as she smiled. I didn’t need her… but gods, did I ever want her again.

“Fine.”

“Good, I’ll see you then.”

I nodded at her as she waved, and I watched her ass sway exaggeratedly in her overly tight jeans as she left my gravity chamber. After she exited, I sighed deeply, running my hand over my face in a sort of reluctant relief. I guess I wasn’t just a phase after all.

 


End file.
